Stay the Night
by TheMortician'sDaughter
Summary: "Tony Stark, of all people, should have known that things only work the way you want them to for a given amount of time before they begin to crumble, and it takes double that amount of time to rebuild it all. Sometimes you can't rebuild them at all. Sometimes, someone else has to."


**So this started out as a drabble, but then I wrote it and it wasn't a drabble anymore. Well, it's not quite a drabble and not quite a oneshot, so I don't know really, but I hope you like it nonetheless.**

**I got the idea while listening to the song 'Stay the Night' by Green Day, which is where the lyrics and title are from. Great song, fabulous band, all that jazz. I recommend it. And I hope you guys enjoy this drabble/oneshot/thing.**

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_I'm just sick and tired of feeling so alone  
I don't understand the point if you have to go home  
So won't you stay and count the circles 'round my eyes  
And we can watch the stars until the sun begins to rise_

It'd been a while since Tony had been completely alone like this.

For some time, he'd had Pepper, and for most of that time, it worked. _They _worked, and that gaping hole he'd had within him since Afghanistan seemed to stitch itself closed. He felt almost healed, completed. Things seemed to turn the right way again. Things flowed.

But then they stopped working, and things backpedaled, and the hole was back, just as hollow and raw as it always had been.

And he was alone.

Tony Stark, of all people, should have known that things only work the way you want them to for a given amount of time before they begin to crumble, and it takes double that amount of time to rebuild it all. Sometimes you can't rebuild them at all.

Sometimes, someone else has to.

"Hey, Banner."

"Yeah?"

"Where you headed to?"

The physicist halted, halfway out the door. He'd removed his glasses a few moments before and was now toying with them between his hands, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "I was just going up to bed. I mean, it'd be nice to actually _sleep _for once. Why?"

"Just curious." Tony's eyes were fixed blankly on the television, the flickering lights of the program in the darkness casting a series of shadows over his face, emphasizing the dark circles that had gradually been forming beneath his eyes throughout several sleepless nights. "I didn't think I was bugging you. Was I? I wasn't aware I could do that."

Bruce turned one hundred and eighty degrees, his brow knitting in confusion. "I, uh, no." Honestly, he wasn't quite sure what Tony had even asked, but settled on the simple answer. "You okay, Stark?"

"What, me? Yeah. 'Course I am."

Bruce breathed a soft sigh, stepping back into the room. His feet sank silently into the plush carpet as he made his way back towards the sofa, his eyes flickering from Tony's blank gaze to his unfaltering grip on the television remote. This was strange. Well, not so much strange as… nostalgic, perhaps; eerily, it was almost like looking in a mirror. Blank expression, stiff fingers, lousy posture.

_Loneliness._

Yes, it was just like looking in a mirror – the reflection staring back was neater, more polished, less scraggly and worn, but the underlying layers bounced back perfectly. Loneliness doesn't discriminate. Loneliness is always the _same, _no matter its victim.

Loneliness didn't suit Tony Stark.

Noiselessly, Bruce took a seat on the sofa beside Tony, his back sinking into the cushions. He reached out and took the remote, mindlessly flipping through a few channels. "It's kind of awful, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Being alone."

Tony hesitated, the movements of his chest coming to a halt as he held his breath for a moment. Slowly, he let it out in a long, quiet sigh through his nose, briefly trapping his words in his throat. "I never said I was lonely."

"Well, that's the thing. You don't really have to say it. You just _are._" Bruce turned his head, fixing his gaze on the man beside him.

"Where's this coming from, Bruce?" Tony's voice was oddly monotonous, lacking its normal spark of wit. It was almost drone-like, and quite frankly, rather unsettling.

"I don't know. You haven't slept in days. You haven't done anything, really. It's kind of like you're turning into one of your robots. It's a bit concerning."

"Sorry." The touch of sincerity in the simple word was almost foreign. "I thought having someone around would help with that or something, I don't know." _I thought having you around would help._ Sigh. _And it did._

Tony, too, turned his head, leaning his cheek against the sofa's cushion behind him. He met Bruce's gaze, not startled in the least by the unusually steady connection.

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked softly, his eyes tracing each feature of Tony's face. He started at the bottom, roaming over the immaculately sculpted hair along his chin, then across the skin that stretched softly over his cheekbones and crinkled subtly around his eyes, emphasizing the dark circles that somehow still seemed beautiful despite the distress and weariness they stemmed from.

Tony drew in a quiet breath, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments. "Nothing," he finally responded, "didn't mean anything, really. Just, could you, like – wow, this is so not manly." He huffed, exasperated with himself.

Bruce ignored the last bit, and he pause to wet his lips. "Could I what?"

"Could you, like, stay for a while? Here, you know, with me." The words felt almost helpless as they fell from his tongue, an unfamiliar sea of need and security that he had reserved for… nobody, really, but maybe that was something he was going to have to reevaluate.

Bruce was silent for a moment, his hands resting limply in his lap. "You want me to stay the night with you?" he asked at last, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I guess you could say that."

Tentatively, Bruce lifted a hand, letting it roam towards where Tony's arm was resting motionlessly by his side. He gently took the other's hand, lacing their fingers and giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze.

Without hesitation, Tony returned the squeeze and settled more comfortably into the sofa, his cheek resting gently against the scientist's warm shoulder. And at that moment, at some ridiculous hour of the morning, his clammy palm pressed against another and his face pressed closely to another living, breathing, careworn body, that aching hole in his being seemed just a tad bit less raw.

"Bruce?"

"Mhm."

"You're staying for a while."

The smile was almost audible in Bruce's words. "That sounds like an order, Mr. Stark."

"Didn't really mean it like that." Tony shifted, the soft light from his arc reactor skewed by the other man's shoulder. He lifted the heavy lids of his eyes to cast a glance up at Bruce, the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips. "But this is your place. Here. You're staying. Okay?"

"Okay."


End file.
